


Red Bike

by kurooos



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, a literal mess lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-23
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-09-11 09:00:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8973277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurooos/pseuds/kurooos
Summary: Keith studies abroad and has a great time, seeing new things, seeing new places, and even seeing cute boys on their bikes, looking absolutely great.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Very highly inspired by [this work of art](http://melonami.tumblr.com/post/151503655452/i-love-this-ask-so-much-lmao-evryone-can-pls), thus dedicated to the wonderful and talented nami <3  
> this is not beta'd and I have never been to Cuba before so if there are any mistakes do let me know and I will fix them!

"Study abroad" they said.

"It'll look good on your résumé" they said.

"You'll meet amazing people and have amazing experiences" they said.

Keith called absolute bullshit.

Not only did Keith have little money but he didn't even have a desire to leave to another country. He was rather content with staying in the bustling city of Chicago, thank you very much. But, alas, Shiro would not stop wheedling at him to take a semester out.

“If you don’t want to take a year then take at least one semester out. Fifteen weeks, it would blow by fast!”

He kept deflecting Shiro, making excuses, not reading the material, saying he didn't take any language class. It was all futile in the long run.

Dread and anger clawed its way into his chest, though, when he got an email saying he was accepted into the program. He hadn't done anything, which meant Shiro had signed him up. That had to be illegal in some way. He was sure of it, maybe he could ask that one law kid in his english class...

Things snowballed from there, really.

He had yelled at Shiro, lost the fight, barely passed his Chemistry midterm, spent more hours in the library than his own bed, and pulled out of the semester with all As, just barely. The break went by so fast, between living with Shiro who was constantly up his ass about the abroad trip and having to work to get money was hectic. Shiro, unfortunately in Keith’s mind, had won out and the last days of his break were spent packing his bags, digging out his passport, and talking with Shiro about the details.

Thinking about the crazy flurry of passed days Keith turns his head, forehead thumping on the small plane window. At least the clouds are pretty, he thinks. He draws his jacket around himself and grumbles when the kid behind him slams their little feet into the back of his chair. It was going to be a long trip. And damn it the in-flight peanuts and water were not going to help him through it.

If there were some things that he was looking forward to it would be the distance from everything and anything related to his normal life.

Keith knew two other students were staying with him in a room; In more accurate terms, he knew of them but had never spoken to them once before. They were going to be taking classes at Havana's University and then, at some point in the semester according to Shiro, they would be going to the popular Varadero beach for a "field study".

Keith highly doubted students would work 100% when they had time in one of the best vacation spots. He also suspected that the field study was really just a break and time off to relax under the guise of school work. The only studying they would be doing would be at clubs or the ocean.

Keith remembered landing in Cuba to be something of a blur, staying close to the other two students and shuffling into a car, riding down the busy streets and checking in at school. There were many sights and smells and sounds to focus in on but Keith had only noticed how warm it was and how bright and clear the sky was.

Classes went by as they did in America, added on with Keith’s spanish class. He figured that while he was submersed in the country, he might as well know how to get around without the help of his friend, Steven; A nice kid also from Chicago, also here via his brother, but enjoying himself much more since he wanted to major in business and marketing.

Steven could never not blabble around Keith, about family back home or how much he loved Havana. And at some point, Keith had began opening up to Steven as well. From there it kept going and going, helping each other with homework for a class, going out to a cafe to have lunch, studying. Four weeks turned into seven, and seven into ten, until finally, they were preparing for the end of their time abroad and Keith was left staring at Steven on the floor, playing with a children’s toy they had picked up from a market.

“We haven’t been to Varadero, yet.”

“Huh?” Steven looked up, the little block of wood spinning away on the floor until it hit his arm, Keith watched as it wobbled and toppled over.

“Varadero. They said we would be going. In the pamphlets.” he explained, looking to his desk to see if he had any just laying around.

“I don’t know anything about that, but we could always just go there ourselves. We’re independent adults here.” Amanda butted in, tossing a footbag into the air and catching it. She was the second abroad student in Keith’s group, someone that he had a rather difficult time connecting with. He chalked that up to her incredible ability to be as dense as a brick.

“I’m pretty okay navigating Havana on our own but going all the way to Varadero?”

“Come _on_ , Steven! Keith! Come on you guys. Please? Let’s do it. Varadero is literally two hours away. Let’s go _now_. It’s the weekend!”

And that was that, Amanda able to get both Keith and Steven to cave with defeated ‘fine’s.

The bus ride wasn’t awful, expensive, but nothing terrible. Keith stayed tucked away with his bookbag in the corner with his earphones in the whole ride, watching the road whip past them.

Steven handled finding them a hotel to stay at that wouldn’t bleed them dry. When he suggested, “Only 20 Pesos for a person per night,” Keith expected them to be staying in some cardboard boxes for the two nights they would be there. He of course, was wrong. The hotel was nice, nicer than Keith expected, he would give it that.

The trio spent their time at the beach, splashing in the waters and wandering into small shops, obvious bait for tourists. They poked around at the restaurants and tried to see where they could get the cheapest food. The carelessness in all of it was oddly refreshing for Keith.

Another oddly refreshing thing Keith found was a small drink shop off the beach, barely taking up space between huge buildings. The wooden doors and windows were always open when they passed it by, sand dusted the floors from frequent beach goers, and the weak fan dangling from the ceiling gave no cool breeze to save one from the heat.

The shop was run by, what Keith assumed, a family. Everyone in the store looked to be related enough, not that Keith was always staring.

When Keith had ordered a water, he barely looked twice at the lean boy serving him, flashing a smile and replying in swift bitten off spanish that even Keith had a hard time processing and keeping up with. When he tried to pay for the drink, the guy simply waved him off and told him it was free. And that was that. Keith never thought twice about it.

And yet, when he got into a taxi, half drunk off his ass, half hauling Steven after him with Amanda’s help, he didn’t expect to see the shop guy again. They were both going home, it seemed.

The taxi was stopped at a red light and Keith was busy warning Steven that if he puked on him he was going to toss him out. The puke never came, only whining and sulking, to which Keith turned in the other direction with a lazy smile. It didn’t last long, not with a strange heat immediately blooming in his chest at what he was met with outside the window.

The shop guy was there, next to the car. And man, did he look absolutely amazing.

He was on a bike, a red, beaten up bike that looked ready to rust away into nothing. He was leaned over the handles, arms braced on them as he kept one foot down on the road, patiently and lazily waiting the light to change. Keith thought he was really missing out here. 

The guy’s shirt, Keith noted with a dry mouth, was riding up his back, showing off tan, sweat slick skin. Keith’s eyes wandered, took in the small swell of the guy’s ass, a hip jutted out from his position on the bike, practically draped over it.

Keith was like, really missing out; on the lean waist and cute ass and messy brown hair. His hips moved, swayed just to the side as his footing changed and Keith curiously looked up, wanting to remember the guy’s face.

The smirk he was met with made Keith’s stomach drop. He’d be caught staring. Fuck. What the fuck. His eyes snapped up to blue ones in disbelief, unable to have time to turn away and hide before the guy was laughing and pushing himself forward on the bike. Keith only watched him ride away, embarrassingly enjoying watching jean-clad hips sway in time to the pedaling.

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to not touch anything related to plot with a ten foot fucking pole, yet here I am making backstories and supporting characters, jfc  
> May possibly write a second chapter? Really it depends on how well this chapter is received.


End file.
